


Not Right of Mind and Body

by Lady_Sci_Fi



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 04:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19165603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Sci_Fi/pseuds/Lady_Sci_Fi
Summary: The Doctor and the Brigadier are captured by unknown aliens. Then they begin to feel a certain... attraction to each other.Or: Aliens Made Them Do It.





	Not Right of Mind and Body

 “Well, Doctor?”

 “Well, what, Lethbridge-Stewart?”

 Alistair sighed heavily, then asked very quietly in case they were being watched. “Have you worked out an escape plan yet?”

 The Doctor glanced around the rather large and comfortable cell. “No.”

 “I’d rather not be here for much longer.”

 The Doctor chuckled. “Perhaps not, though it’s not the worst place you or certainly I have been locked up in.”

 “That doesn’t do much to comfort me. We are still prisoners in a cell,” Alistair pointed out, leaning forward on the silky sheeted and soft blanketed mattress.

 The Doctor didn’t respond, and simply laid back on his bed, putting his arm under the pillow under his head.

 Alistair blew out a huff of air, and stared at the other man expectantly for several seconds. When the Doctor didn’t do anything except close his eyes, he made a disapproving noise before settling back on his bed.

 Several minutes later, both men straightened into alertness as the cell door opened. A pair of aliens, tall and light red-skinned, set two trays of food on the small table. Then they bowed their heads, and left. The Doctor called out a question after them, but the door closed and locked without any answer given.

 The Doctor stood, rubbed his neck, and considered the food. Then he took one tray for himself. “Might as well eat.”

 “You seem very unconcerned,” Alistair noted.

 “Until I have information saying I should be more outwardly concerned, my demeanor is acceptable,” the Doctor countered.

 Alistair sighed again, and took the other tray. He waited until the Doctor determined the food and water was safe and had taken a few bites before eating his own meal.

 “If they hadn’t taken my sonic screwdriver…” the Doctor mused halfway through his plate.

 “Or my weapon,” Alistair added.

 “Well of course they were going to take that. Either way, we haven’t been badly treated at all.”

 “I wonder what that means.”

 When they were done eating, they put the trays back on the table. The Doctor again completely relaxed on his bed, but Alistair sat on the edge of his bed, feeling somewhat… strange.

 It was like a small headache had started, but not quite. He wasn’t sure what to call it. Then there seemed to be a tingling in his head. “Doctor?”

 “Yes, Brigadier?” The Timelord didn’t even open his eyes.

 “Do you feel… at all… odd?”

 “Odd?” That got him up and looking to Alistair. “How do you mean?”

 “In my head, I think.”

 “I’m not feeling anything odd. Perhaps you’re more sensitive to the atmosphere?”

 “I don’t know.” Alistair lightly shook his head. He breathed out slowly as he tried to figure out exactly what was going on with him. It could just be a strange headache, but somehow, he knew it wasn’t. Something was wrong, he was sure of it.

 The Doctor came over to the other man, and leaned over to look into his eyes and check him over. “Are you feeling warm, groggy…?”

 Alistair answered the questions. His body was starting to feel warm, but not in a fever-like way. He pulled back from the Doctor as the warmth spread down to his abdomen and crotch. “That’s…” he cleared his throat. “That’s unsettling.”

 “What is?”

 Alistair clenched his legs closed at a certain kind of familiar tingle down there. He pressed his lips together and looked away from the Timelord.

 “What is it?” the Doctor asked, now concerned. “This is not the time for pride, if there is something wrong,” he stated when Alistair didn’t answer.

Alistair hummed lowly, and his fist clenched in the blanket. That tingly heat was certainly going to his groin. He blinked when the Doctor’s hand turned his face, and their eyes locked. The Doctor’s hand on his face was cool, but it strangely seemed to only warm his skin. His eyes, a light but deep blue, like an ocean… He shook his head, but that only moved his gaze to the rest of the man’s face. Quite a handsome face, really, for his age. Then his hair… Dark silvery-white and slightly curled. He wondered if it was as soft and silky as it looked. His hand rose, seemingly of its own accord, but he stopped it halfway, and it awkwardly hung there. Why was he thinking about all this?

 “Lethbridge-Stewart. Focus on me.” At the lack of response, the Doctor tried, “Alistair.”

 “Say that again…” Alistair requested breathily. The way that voice had said his first name had sounded so very nice.

 “You’re right, there certainly is something odd. Your pupils are dilated and you feel slightly warmer than you should be.” The Doctor turned to the door, and called out, “Hello? If you can hear me, my friend needs help.”

 The Doctor moved away, and Alistair grabbed for him, but didn’t catch him. “Hello?” the Timelord repeated, now at the door. “There’s something wrong in here.” More impatiently, he said, “Come now, I’m sure someone’s watching us.” Then he felt a slight tingling in his head.

 The Doctor turned back to Alistair, and immediately flinched back against the door at the unexpected closeness of the other man. “At least you can stand,” he remarked lightly.

 “Doctor, say my name again?” Alistair requested airily.

 The Doctor swallowed, feeling a strange sort of pull to his friend. The neat dark hair, the dark blue eyes, the handsome face… he wondered what kissing him would be like with the mustache…

 “Doctor?”

 That snapped the Doctor out of his thoughts. Where had those even come from? He cleared his throat. “Yes?”

 “I feel… I feel…” Alistair raised his hand to the Doctor’s face.

 There was almost an electricity between them, and the Doctor moved in for a kiss. He managed to stop himself halfway, but Alistair quickly moved in the rest of the distance.

 The Doctor was too shocked to pull away. Too shocked by Alistair’s action and his own pleasure rising from it. He backed up, and hit the door. But he found he didn’t mind being somewhat trapped like this, not with Alistair kissing him so very nicely. Not too hard, not too shy. And with the little tickle from the mustache…

 The Doctor suddenly pushed back as he came to his senses again. What was happening to the two of them? This was far from normal thought and behavior for them.

 “Doctor?” Alistair’s face turned into a slight pout. “What’s wrong?”

 “Ali- I mean, Lethbridge-Stewart. We’re not ourselves right now. There’s something…” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked to the side to avoid those wanting eyes. “Something affecting us.”

 Alistair raised his eyebrow. “I feel perfectly fine.” He moved into the Doctor’s space, placing a hand on the Doctor’s chest.

 “I assure you, you aren’t, and neither am I.” The Doctor put his hand over Alistair’s on his chest, but found he didn’t want to remove it. “Whatever this is seems to be affecting you more. I don’t seem to be as…” He shook his head at the physical pull to kiss the other man again. “As susceptible to it.”

 “Doctor, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 The Doctor nearly laughed. Alistair had sounded so normal and familiar with that statement. But the desire in his expression told the truth. He didn’t have the chance to say anything else about their condition before Alistair kissed him again, harder this time. The Doctor didn’t push away, but his other hand fisted and banged on the door behind him. He was of two minds, wanting this to continue and wanting someone to come stop this.

 He was stronger than the Human, and he could stop this himself without hurting him, but he couldn’t will himself to do anything of the sort. A shock went up his spine as Alistair’s thigh brushed across his crotch. His knocking increased in speed in response.

 “Brigadier, this really isn’t-“ The Doctor’s lips were claimed again, this time Alistair grabbing the lapels of his jacket with both hands.

 When Alistair pulled back to breathe, he stated, “I know what I want.”

 “No you don’t,” the Doctor countered, doing his best to continue fighting against his own attraction.

 “Yes, I do,” Alistair growled.

 The Doctor would’ve been lying to himself if he said he hadn’t found that alluring. Why did Alis… Lethbridge-Stewart have to make this more difficult? He squeaked into the other’s mouth as Alistair’s hand slid down his torso to squeeze at the front of his trousers. His own hand stopped knocking, and gripped Alistair’s side. He even kissed him back before he got enough control over himself again.

 The Timelord really couldn’t bring himself to stop Alistair, and he let the other man undo the fly of his trousers and slip his hand in. Alistair’s mouth slid past his lips to kiss along his jaw and down to the side of his neck. An involuntary moan escaped the Doctor’s mouth.

 “You want it, too,” Alistair whispered.

 Did he? Half his brain was saying yes, the other half saying no. Still, he knew this was artificial, a cruel trick. So no, he didn’t really want this, and neither did Alistair. Despite the stiffening cock in his trousers under the other’s ministrations. He found himself nuzzling his nose into the hair above Alistair’s ear. But then he confused the message by whispering, “Stop…”

 “I don’t want to,” Alistair replied. “And you don’t want me to.”

 Unable to bring himself to stop it, all he could do was let it happen, despite his internal protests. In fact, he did more, and began to respond in kind, his hand going down to the waist of Alistair’s trousers. It was the best course of action, really. Do what was wanted and get it over with, in case there were nasty side-effects for not following through. Surely that was a good enough justification.

 “Say my name,” Alistair growled.

 “Briga… Lethbridge… Alistair…” the Doctor moaned.

 Alistair pulled the Doctor back with him to one of the beds. The heat building within him became too much to keep all his clothes on, and he quickly stripped off his combat jacket. The Doctor followed suit with his own blue velvet one.

 Alistair took the lead again, pushing down the Doctor’s trousers and underwear partway. The Doctor undid the fly of the other man’s trousers and did the same.

 Alistair sat, and with one hand pulled out his cock and began stroking it. With his other hand, he grabbed the front of the Doctor’s shirt and pulled him down for another kiss.

 The Doctor quickly found himself yanked and then pushed down to his knees, and he knew what the other wanted from him. He decided to oblige, and took over the stroking of Alistair’s cock. He looked up at the soldier, and the way Alistair moaned very loudly and threw his head back only served to push away the niggling doubts about all this.

 Still, the Doctor knew he had more agency and control, he was still able to make the choice. So he made the choice to lower his head and open his mouth to lick down Alistair’s mostly-erect cock.

 “Oh… yes…” Alistair moaned. His hand gripped at the Timelord’s hair.

 The Doctor nuzzled it with his nose before sucking the side of the warm flesh. The hand in his hair tightened, and a moment later, he took the cock in his mouth and bobbed up and down.

 “So good, Doctor. So good…” Alistair stared down at him, petting his fingers through the Doctor’s hair. “Oh, this is… oh…” His eyelids fluttered closed.

 Those breathy little moans from the usually unflappable man only turned the Doctor on more, and he began to stroke himself. But he blinked very hard to keep some control over himself.

 A couple minutes later, Alistair pulled the Doctor back up. “I want you right now.” He licked his lip. “Let me have you.”

 Somehow, figuring out who would do what when it got to this point had not occurred to the Doctor’s mind. He had been focused on simultaneously stopping and not stopping this, and simply following whatever Alistair needed to give it any thought.

 Whatever this was affected Alistair more than him. Alistair needed to go through with this more than him. So really, whatever he needed or wanted from this had to take priority to how the Doctor might have wanted this to go. He wished it could end here, but also at the same time didn’t, and wanted this to go further. The split in his mind was maddening.

 “I want you,” Alistair repeated. “Doctor,” he prompted when the man didn’t respond immediately.

 The Doctor lifted a hand to his mouth, his index finger ghosting over the precum on his bottom lip. Alistair’s expression became impatient, and his hands fisted in the Doctor’s shirt.

 “Alright, Alistair,” the Doctor answered.

 That was all Alistair needed forcibly flip their positions and shove the Doctor down onto the bed. He pounced on him, and straddled his thighs. He ground their cocks against each other, and unbuttoned the Doctor’s shirt. The Doctor’s fingers unbuttoned halfway down the soldier’s shirt before Alistair’s smacked them away and pushed him down fully by the shoulders.

 This kiss was harder than before. Alistair didn’t spend much more time with foreplay and preparation, and got off the Doctor’s legs to get to what he needed now.

 It would have to do, because Alistair was now far too gone to do anything except fuck the Doctor. He lifted the Doctor’s legs and lined them up. He was slow to press inside, tilting his head back as he did so.

 Both men groaned as Alistair sheathed himself and stopped, both of them getting used to the feeling. “You feel so good,” the Brigadier breathed.

 The Doctor smiled. It took a short moment for them to figure out a good rhythm, but when they did, it was fast and passionate, with touching and kissing and just… needing as much as the other could give.

 Their cries and moans of pleasure mingled together. Partway through, Alistair pulled out and told the Doctor to turn over onto his hands and knees. The Doctor obliged, and Alistair held him around the middle and entered him quickly to continue.

 The Doctor’s moans were now muffled by the pillow, except when Alistair’s hand grabbed at his hair and pulled his head up briefly multiple times. He stroked himself in time with the thrusts, the needs of his body overriding everything else in his mind and needing a full release now.

 Alistair’s body stuttered and he ground up and stayed pressed in as far as possible as he came.

 It took the Doctor several more strokes with his hand to finish. He barely had time to process that and the sensation of the other man’s seed in him before Alistair pulled out and bent over him completely to messily kiss his cheek.

 They stayed like that, Alistair holding the Doctor tightly, for a long moment. Then both fell to their strenuous exertions and collapsed to the soft silky sheets.

 The Doctor turned to Alistair, unable to help the smile at the dishevelment of the other man. His slightly-glazed eyes, sweat-dampened and spiky hair, and heaving chest under the half-open shirt. He was certain he appeared similarly.

 Alistair blinked slowly. “Doctor?” He sounded a little more like his normal self, and a touch confused.

 “Are you alright?”

 Alistair snorted. “Why wouldn’t I be? I feel… great. You?”

 Now the Doctor felt just how sore his lower half was. He’d probably feel it for several more hours. Maybe he shouldn’t have let Alistair go as hard as he did on him. Still, he did feel good. He gave a vague grunt in response.

 It didn’t take long at all for Alistair to fall asleep, unsurprisingly. The Doctor stayed awake, and rearranged their clothes enough to be decent. He stared up at the ceiling and, now that the haze of need and desire had begun to lift from his mind, thought about what had been done to them. Perhaps it had been in the food…

 By the time the door opened, the Doctor’s mind was fully his own again, and he was silently fuming about their agency being taken away and what they had been forcibly coerced to do. Yes, he had willingly submitted to the situation, or he hoped he had, but Alistair hadn’t had that chance at all.

 The Doctor got to his feet, still mindful enough to not awaken his friend, and went to the pair of aliens. “What was all this?” he demanded.

 “You were not harmed,” one alien stated.

 “That’s not the point,” the Doctor hissed. “What you made us do through artificial means… that’s despicable.”

 “We wanted to see how you would react to this drug, while we observed,” said the other one. “We would not have let anything happen to either of you if things became… overly aggressive.”

 “You expect me to be satisfied with that?” the Doctor snorted.

 “You will be kept here until both of you have fully recovered from the effects, and we will then return you where we found you.”

 “I suppose I should thankful for that,” the Timelord nearly spat.

 The two aliens bowed their heads and left.

 The Doctor let out a long sigh, and ran his hand over his face. Then he looked to Alistair, and grimaced. How would he react to what had happened? No doubt he would try to repress it, stiff upper lip and all. But surely there would be more to it than that. At the very least, things would certainly be awkward between them for some time.

 The Timelord went to the other bed, and heavily sat on it and scooted back against the wall to watch over his friend in case anything else happened.

 When Alistair did awake, the Doctor was shaken out of his dozing by the quiet call of his name.

 Alistair sat up and looked down at himself, perplexed at his half-open shirt and odd feeling of satisfaction and pleasure. “Doctor? What happened?”

 The Doctor tilted his head at the question. Surely no one would have forgotten the intense sex. “What happened?”

 “Yes. Why am I… Why are our jackets on the floor and you look… well, like you’ve run a marathon?”

 The Doctor self-consciously ran a hand through his heavily mussed hair. Did he really not remember? He watched the other’s face for a moment before he lied, “I don’t know, myself.” He gave a small reassuring smile. “We were kidnapped, but I… I don’t think we were hurt.”

 “You’re sure?”

 The Doctor got up to join him on that bed.

 Alistair noticed, “You’re limping.”

 “Maybe they did do something to me, then,” the Doctor replied dismissively. “Are you alright?”

 “Think so. I’m not feeling anything hurting. I do feel a bit… mentally odd, like… giddy, but otherwise fine.”

 If Alistair truly didn’t remember, then the aftermath of this wouldn’t be nearly as bad as the Doctor had feared. Even with the Doctor remembering every detail, he’d take that trade. What had happened today would be something he would never tell the other man. “Good. That’s very good, Lethbridge-Stewart.”


End file.
